Temptation
by tailor31415
Summary: In which Stiles takes something and Derek is determined to use any means necessary to get it back. Including dirty talk.


Disclaimer: Teen Wolf and its characters/plot are in no way mine.

* * *

Stiles kept an eye on the clock as he flipping through his Economics book as if he were reading. It had been thirty minutes already – once an hour pasted, he probably wasn't going to show up. Frowning, he glanced at the window again and a smirk crept onto his face when he spotted Derek striding across the roof towards the window.

He was wearing a pair of sweatpants.

Stiles jumped up, full-on grinning now, and sauntered over to the window. Derek glared at him through the glass and reached for the bottom of the window to open it. His hand stopped less than an inch away and his brow furrowed as he stared at the sill. "Stiles!" he barked, loud enough the young man could hear it through the glass, "Give them back!" He made to slam his fist against the window, but wasn't able to reach it again.

Stepping closer, Stiles gestured towards the inner sill with great flourish and carefully enunciated, "Mountain ash, take that, bitch." He crossed his arms over his chest and grinned again.

Derek glared again and quickly tried to run his hand over any part of the window, starting from the sill and moving up towards the top. Stiles guessed he was growling now by the way he was gritting his teeth. Pointing at Derek, Stiles made claw-shapes with his hands and waved them around, growling himself aloud, and mimed Derek growing more and more angry, then he pointed at himself and mimed laughing until his stomach hurt. He ended up rolling on the ground, soundlessly laughing and pointing up at the window, and when he opened his eyes again, Stiles noticed Derek was staring down at him with a blank expression.

Stiles quickly sat up and leaned towards the window again, just in time to see Derek leap off the roof. Just before he disappeared from sight, Stiles swore he could see a smirk gracing the man's lips.

There was a short moment when all Stiles feels 's the sweet, sweet sense of victory, and then the memory of the smirk comes drifting back into his mind and his heart jumps into his throat. Because Derek would not give up just because of some mountain ash blocking the window.

He pushed himself off the floor, listening for any sounds in the house, and then gives that up because, no matter what the standard with other werewolves, Derek would not give himself away by crashing through a window and running into furniture.

Turning around slowly, Stiles wasn't even surprised to find Derek standing just outside his door. Okay, well, he is a bit surprised. A lot surprised.

He might have even shrieked.

In any case, after his heart stops pounding in his ears, Stiles grins again and gestures at the floor of the entryway. Derek doesn't even look down at the line of blackened ash, he instead merely raises one eyebrow at Stiles and lets a smug smile drift onto his face.

"What?" Stiles asked, firming up his stance by crossing his arms again and carefully adjusting his feet.

Derek gave a slow shrug, and with the motion, Stiles realized he was shirtless – small beads of sweat covering his chest and, oh, he must have run over once he got out of the shower – and that the sweatpants he is wearing were ratty and too small for him, showing off his ankles and bare feet. "Are those Isaac's?" he has to ask, nearly regretting it when the smile falls off Derek's face and he glares again.

"I'm going to get them back, so break the line, Stiles," Derek ordered, eyes steady on his. Stiles let out a near-nervous laugh and shook his head. "Break it or I will make you."

"Yeah? How are you going to do that?" he asked in reply, leaning forward slightly. "You're stuck out there, and I'm in here," he added in a mocking tone. Derek starts to open his mouth and Stiles quickly said, "And, don't say, 'I have my ways'."

Giving him an incredulous look, Derek replied, "I wasn't going to."

"Oh," Stiles said, voice small, settling back on the heels of his feet. "Well, then."

There are several moments of silence, where Stiles keeps his gazed focused somewhere between his toes and the ceiling – and definitely not on Derek – and he can just feel Derek judging him from across the room. He was about to explode from the silence and shout, 'What!' at the man when Derek finally spoke again.

"Have you ever been kissed, Stiles?" he asks, voice soft and low.

The air he had been building up for his outburst quickly leaves him in one ragged breath and Stiles jerks his eyes back up to Derek's face. "W-what?" he squeaks out.

"And I don't mean a brush of lips behind the school gym, no. I mean, have you ever been really kissed?" Derek is staring at him. Staring at his lips. And Stiles can't help but lick at them, because they are suddenly dry, okay? Not because he is thinking of kissing Derek or anything.

"Have you ever been kissed deep and wet, open-mouthed, where you can't even breathe and can't do anything but press your hands against their chest and hold on for dear life?" Derek continues, eyes not even flickering from where they're focused. "But, you wouldn't just take that, would you, Stiles?" At the sound of his name, Stiles manages to suck in a ragged breath. "No, you'd give as good as you got, isn't that right? As soon as you got a breath, you'd slide your hands up my abs, brushing along my stomach, wouldn't you? Push back with your tongue, try to take control of the kiss from me? Roam your hands over my body and shudder when my hands moved down to grip at your ass?"

Stiles feels his eyes widening as he stares at Derek. The rush of blood was back in his ears and he is certain his face was bright red. Derek flicked his eyes up to meet Stiles' before he gave a small, sure smile. "Have you ever been embraced like that, Stiles?"

His throat clicked as he quickly shook his head. Derek gave him a slow nod in reply, shoving his hands into his pockets as he studied Stiles. Stiles shuddered when Derek parted his lips again and began to speak. "Have you ever been fucked, Stiles?"

His knees trembled. Derek's voice carried on above the feeling.

"How would you like it? Would you want me to lift you up, hands digging into your hip bones? Wouldn't even break the kiss – no, you'd be too desperate for my lips. Slam you up against the wall – that's a good one for us, right? Press my thigh in between yours and shove up until you slammed your head back against the wall. Press my face into your neck and just dig my teeth in. Shh, calm down, completely human teeth. You'd rut against me, wouldn't you? Wouldn't know what to do with your hands, would just flutter them all over my shoulders, my arms, my waist. Press desperate kisses against my lips, yeah? Wanting more?

"I'd give you more," he added darkly, eyes running up and down Stiles' body.

Stiles stumbled over to his bed, collapsing against it, barely able to hold himself up without his hands pressed into the comforter. "Yeah," Derek said, sounding like he was contemplating the meaning of the universe. "Maybe on the bed would be better." Stiles jerked his head back up to stare at Derek.

"Shove you down on your back, how about that? Shove your shirt up under your arms, leave your chest bare for me, free for me to do whatever I want. Have you ever touched your nipples, Stiles? I bet you'd love it – would twitch and cry out with every twist and pinch. I could bite at them, would you like that? Yeah, I can hear your heart racing.

"What, just throw your legs up in the air, gripping them tight, ankles twitching against nothing as I thrust straight in? You'd have to put your hands up against the headboard to keep from hitting your head, wouldn't want you getting knocked out, right? And like that, you wouldn't be able to touch yourself – as much as you'd want. You'd be begging for it, wouldn't you? For my fist to fuck into?"

Stiles swallowed and moved one hand down to press the heel of his palm against the hard length trapped in his jeans. He bit his lip to hold back the groan at the feeling and could barely keep his eyes from slipping off Derek's face, Derek's lips, Derek's eyes.

Derek grinned at him then, feral and bright in the darkness of the hallway. "How about the shower, Stiles? Have you ever thought about sex in the shower? It would be so wet, water everywhere washing away your sweat, the sound of it drowning out your whimpers. The warmth of it soaking into your shoulders and back as I press you against my chest, how's that sound? And when I finger you open, splashes of water would make their way into your hole, right? Dripping in where only hard, throbbing thickness should be? Your voice would echo in there, have you thought of that? Bouncing off the tile, surrounding you. Wouldn't be able to escape what we're doing in there."

He was rubbing himself furiously through his jeans now, nearly riding his hand as he supported himself on the bed. Derek's nostrils flared and he grinned even more, and Stiles realized with a shock he had never seen so many smiles from the other.

Derek nudged his chin towards the bed that Stiles was nearly collapsed against now. "How about back to there? Could take you again on your stomach. All clean from the shower now, right? Just shove you down into those pillows, maybe put one under your hips because your knees would just be giving out. Press my face into your crack, lick deep where no one's ever been before. Get you wet and dripping, ready and begging for me to take you. You'd be sobbing into your pillow by the time I'm done with you, tears staining your cheeks. Slick myself up and just slide home, right? Hands on your hips, digging in and leaving marks, or maybe one on your hip and one on your shoulder – keep you from going anywhere. Would you like that, Stiles? Not being able to do anything but just take. What. I. Give. You? Could set my teeth against the back of your throat, like you think werewolves do – bite down when you try to jerk away. You wouldn't be able to reach yourself, like that, with me pinning you in place, and you'd just be begging for it. To come. To have me thrust into you enough that you'd come untouched and hard against the bed. And I wouldn't stop 'til I was done, just keep thrusting away at your fucked-loose hole until I was finished. Leave you dripping when I pulled out. Maybe lick you clean. How's that sound, Stiles?"

Stiles could not pull his eyes away, just staring at him, feeling the wetness soaking into his jeans and dropping his hand to the floor as his knees gave out. Derek shrugged and shifted one foot back as if he were about to leave. "Well," he said slowly, sounding regretful, "Can't do anything if I'm not in there…"

Scrambling across the room on his hands and knees, Stiles brushed apart the mountain ash line and reached towards Derek with trembling hands. Derek sprang across the line and pulled Stiles up into his arms, pressing his lips to his and nipping until Stiles gasped and opened his lips.

The kiss was exactly as Derek had described, Stiles finding his hands just pressing against the hardness of Derek's bare pectoral muscles, fingers twitching as Derek's tongue plundered his mouth. Derek pulled back, hands fitted snugly against Stiles' shoulders, and whispered, "Breathe."

Stiles took a gasping breath and then pressed back against him, starting the kiss this time. He shifted one hand up to thread his fingers into Derek's hair and moved the other until he reached Derek's hip, pressing his fingers into the muscles near his stomach. Derek groaned against his lips and circled his hands down Stiles' back, kneading into the flesh and muscle and bunching up his shirt under the ministrations. His hands reached Stiles' ass at the same time and just settled against the jean-clad flesh, a warm reminder of his presence.

Moaning in complaint, Stiles pressed his hips back until Derek's fingers clenched against him, gripping him tight and beginning to thrust their hips together. Derek's mouth froze for a moment, and Stiles thought that was odd, but Derek was right – he had never had a kiss like this before, so maybe that was just what Derek did when he breathed – so he brushed it off, focusing his attention on grinding his hips and panting hot, gasping breaths against Derek's lips.

Derek shifted until his lips were pressed into Stiles' neck, and Stiles liked that, but he had liked kissing too and would rather have that back please, so he gripped with his hand in an attempt to pull Derek's head back up. The werewolf kept mouthing at his neck though, fingers kneading into Stiles' flesh and insistently tugging him forward, forward, forward into Derek's hips, and he seemed a bit distracted as he did so.

Just as Stiles was coming to a realization – what, it wasn't as if he was getting a lot of blood to the brain at the moment, it was all traveling downward – and pulled back to shout, "No!" Derek cried instead, "Found them!"

He quickly weaved around Stiles' body and sprang towards the closet, where Derek's jeans were crumpled in an attempt to make them look like dirty laundry. The man straightened up and held the jeans over his head in a victory pose and then shot a grin at Stiles. "Told you I'd get them back."

Stiles gaped at him from his place near the door, hands still raised as if he were touching Derek and his mouth flapped open and closed against soundless words of protest. "I like this," Derek added, striding towards the door – gait a bit awkward from the erection he sported in the sweatpants – "You silent, me getting to say all I want. Speechless is a good look on you." He stopped by the door and winked at Stiles, "Especially when it's accompanied by kissed senseless."

He moved out the door and down the hallway. And, yup, there was the telltale thump of him leaping down the stairs. Recovering his voice, Stiles ran to the doorway of his bedroom and shouted, "I only took them because they're too small for you! I was going to get you new ones. Jerk!"

Stiles quickly raced to one of the windows facing the direction of the metro station, the bathroom one, and threw open the window. "Come back here and kiss me, you asshole!" he shouted out into the dimness of the evening.

He glanced down at noticed his neighbor staring up at him from where she was watering her plants. Sighing, he threw his hands in the air and shook his head. "My life."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed. Reviews always appreciated :D


End file.
